


Memento Vivere (The Plural of Memento Mori is Memento Mori)

by sqbr



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/pseuds/sqbr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny, Buffy and Joyce, season two. A remix of "The Plural of Memento Mori" by brutti_ma_buoni.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memento Vivere (The Plural of Memento Mori is Memento Mori)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brutti_ma_buoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutti_ma_buoni/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Plural of Memento Mori](https://archiveofourown.org/works/107991) by [brutti_ma_buoni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brutti_ma_buoni/pseuds/brutti_ma_buoni). 



> Thanks to [Vera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera) and [Naraht](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Naraht) for beta-ing and giving some very helpful advice. Special thanks of course must go to brutti_ma_buoni for writing such a beautiful and inspiring story, my main worry with this piece was creating something that did her story justice.
> 
> Glimmergal has created a lovely erasure of this fic called [Memento Mei](http://erasureathon.livejournal.com/19396.html).

Jenny hated funerals.

Death was a serious business in Clan Kalderash. Of course, death is a serious business for everyone, Roma especially, but it's one thing to have a general cultural awareness of the possibility of vengeful spirits and another to be taught from childhood to check dead bodies for signs of vampire attack, and for the mourners at every funeral to hold stakes and holy water as well as flowers and gifts for the dead.

She'd hated it, had been glad to escape to college where everyone was young and healthy and saw death as some remote possibility that, when it happened, was responded to only with simple grief.

It had not taken long for the novelty to wear off. She'd started to notice the signs of vampire attacks and angry spirits even in safe, sunny UCLA and realised that it was just that her classmates didn't or couldn't see them. Even when the clan drew her back in and sent her to Sunnydale, a city whose young people saw death as anything but remote and where funerals were a constant reminder that Things Were Not Right, no one talked about or acknowledged it. Somehow they managed to always be surprised by each "random" death, their dogged naiveté in the face of the evil surrounding them leaving the city's inhabitants vulnerable, constantly cycling from bland denial to hurt and shock, unable to understand or process what was happening to them.

"I sound like Uncle Enyos," she thought to herself chidingly. Who was she to judge these people? How many months had she ignored the truth right in front of her to hold onto her happy little fantasy of love and acceptance? How many people had died because of her own denial and self delusion, when she lacked even the excuse of ignorance? Jenny thought about Uncle Enyos, his death and what he would think of her actions since then, and her mind skittered around those thoughts to focus on the here and now.

She looked across the graveyard to where the ceremony was taking place, the mourners a blotch of black against the green grass and clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day. Jenny felt uncomfortable being here: she'd barely known this Peter, and stood some distance away underneath an old tree on the outskirts of the cemetery. She didn't recognise most of the attendees, though she assumed that the middle aged couple standing by the priest were Peter's parents. How much did they know about their son's death? Would it help them to know that he had been likely killed by a vampire rather than by wild dogs as they had been told? What would they say if Jenny tried to explain that the she was trying to redeem the vampire who probably killed their son, that she was in part responsible for transformation that led that vampire to kill?

She recognised some of the students from her junior year computer science classes. Buffy looked a little out of place amongst them, and Jenny wondered what excuse she'd given for how she knew Peter. Buffy looked up and caught Jenny's eye, shaking her head in a subtle negative: Angel had not killed this boy.

Buffy started to walk towards Jenny, smiling sadly as she was hugged and waved goodbye to by the kids she'd been talking to. When she got to the tree she said "It was a vampire all right, but not Angel. One of Peter's friends saw him going off with some older guys but they were all blond or short or whatever. Not that it makes much difference to Peter."

"Did you know him?" asked Jenny.

"A little," said Buffy. "I got to know some of the junior year kids when I was looking into this demon thing a few months ago. He was nice."

"I don't remember any demon thing."

"It wasn't a big deal. You know, evil demon, a bunch of dead kids, typical high school stuff." Buffy sighed. "Come on, let's get going. I'm sure you've got better things to do today than drive me around to cemeteries in the middle of nowhere while Giles is…what _is_ Giles doing today?"

"What makes you think I know?" replied Jenny wryly as they reached her car. Part of her kept hoping that if she could just complete this ritual and return Angel's soul then all would be forgiven, but she knew that forgiveness didn't work that way. Another part of her resented Buffy's easy relationship with Rupert, and the strength of the trust between them.

Buffy looked at Jenny with compassion, her eyes too old for such a young face. Jenny was reminded of just what Buffy had had to suffer to gain that trust. "Well then…" said Buffy, leaning her head towards Jenny with a wide eyed expression, "Can you tell me what's on the final?"

"No," laughed Jenny, "But nice try."

When they got to Buffy's house they found Mrs Summers kneeling on the lawn pulling out weeds.

"Wait!" she cried out to Jenny as she shut the door after Buffy and was about to drive away.

"Yes, Mrs Summers?" she said, trying to radiate "It's very nice to see you but I really must go".

"Call me Joyce," she said, smiling and and leaning against the car door a little out of breath. "You're Miss Calendar, right? Buffy's computer science teacher? She said you were giving her a lift to the funeral, I just wanted to thank you, I would have gone myself but I was busy all morning with this meeting I couldn't get out of, there was…well, that's not your problem. Anyway, thank you. Buffy hasn't always had the best experience with teachers and she's told me how supportive you and Mr Giles have been."

It would be easy to dismiss Joyce, to laugh at the way she remained blissfully ignorant of the danger around her, and of what was really going on in her daughter's life. But perhaps that made her more notable, that she loved and supported Buffy _without_ knowing that she was the Chosen One, that she took all the violence and unexplainable weirdness in her stride and still did her best to be a good mom and decent human being.

"You're welcome," said Jenny, "But I'm glad to help. Buffy's a good kid."

"I'm glad you think so," said Joyce. "Not everyone can see it. And I know Sunnydale is a nice town, and Buffy's a very capable young woman but I just…worry sometimes, about my little girl out there alone in the world. Look at this poor boy Peter, happy and safe one minute, and then… It's good to know I'm not the only one looking out for Buffy."

"I can't promise to keep Buffy safe, Joyce," said Jenny. "But…" Jenny stopped. What could she say? "I'll do my best to protect her?" When had that ever really been true? The best she could do was offer support while Buffy figured out the best way to protect everyone herself. "I don't know what the future holds for Buffy," she said at last. "But I'm certain that whatever it is she'll face it capably. She really is a remarkable young woman." Jenny smiled at Joyce. "I can see where she gets it from."

"Mooom," said Buffy from the door of the house. "What are you saying to Miss Calendar? Actually, wait, what is she saying to you? If it's about the mark on my last assignment I have a _really_ good excuse."

"Assignment?" said Joyce, raising an eyebrow.

"It's ok," said Jenny. "She really _did_ have a good excuse. I'm sure she'll make it up next time. Anyway, I have to go, but it was nice seeing you again."

As she drove away Jenny decided to let go of her fantasies about redemption and forgiveness. They were as much of a trap as letting her life be controlled by vengeance. She would do what she needed to do because it was right, whatever the consequences. She felt like a weight of expectation had lifted off her chest, and she smiled happily to herself as she drove off into an unknown future. It really was a beautiful day.

**Author's Note:**

> memento mori _n._: Latin, lit. _remember to that you will die_. A reminder of the inevitability of death.
> 
> memento vivere _n._: Latin, lit. _remember to live_. A reminder of life.
> 
> My original plan was to try and use a canon scene between Joyce and Jenny and maybe Buffy, but then I realised there aren't any! I was also going to have them talk about Giles more, but it didn't fit naturally into the story.
> 
> The first draft was an AU where Jenny didn't die but Oz did (which was apparently the original plan for Season 2) I think this story is better, but I was sad to let go of the story title [Et in Arcadia ego](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Et_in_Arcadia_ego).
> 
> I did some research into Roma burial traditions and culture, I couldn't find much specific information on Romanian or Californian Roma but it's not like Clan Kalderash bear much resemblance to actual Roma anyway :/


End file.
